I Hate You, Don't Leave Me
by InfinityxInfinity95
Summary: UPDATE: Continuing when I have the time. When Daniel shot Emily, he didn't realise she wasn't lying about her pregnancy. When she regains her memory, what will become of their relationship? Based on 3x10/11 and 'I hate you, don't leave me' by Demi Lovato. Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognise, the plot, song etc.


**So I decided to write another 'Revenge' story as I am currently obsessed with re-watching every episode of the show. And reading Revenge fanfics. I wanted to do something different. I don't know if it will work. Or if I'm just too tired from exam revision and think this is a good idea. Well we'll see.**

**The song this fic is based on, at least at the end is 'I Hate You, Don't Leave Me' by Demi Lovato. Try listening to the song while you read. This one is slightly AU, though it is clearly based around the shooting and the hospital stay at the beginning. I know it's a bit crappy where I have tried to fit in the song lyrics with the story, but once I got the idea I didn't want to give up on it, and that meant writing the rubbish as well as the good stuff.**

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognise does not belong to me, the characters, plot lines, and song (lyrics are in italics). I am only twisting them for my own amusement. Contains mild language. Please enjoy.**

_I Hate You, Don't Leave Me_

The last thing she remembered was the look on Daniel's face as she was propelled over the railings of the boat. It was a look of shock, and anger, and confusion. Like he couldn't believe the blood spurting from his wife's chest, was because of him. Because he had just shot two bullets into his new bride, with what had seemed little provocation? He watched with bated breath as the current washed her unconscious body away, the front of her dress stained red, leaving a trail of blood in the water, before flinging the gun as far away into the sea as he could. If he was lucky, the current would wash it further away before it sank.

The following commotion on the deck only lead Daniel to go back inside, to grab another glass of champagne, the only alcohol he could get his hands on, and sit, watching the pictures on the screen, disgusted. He was drunk. More so than he had ever been, and as the rest of the room cleared out, the final picture came on the screen. The picture of the sonogram. The one Daniel now knew was clearly fake, Emily had even admitted it herself. Before he could stop himself, he flung the now empty glass at the screen, watching it smash as it fell to the floor. He stood, pushing the projector to the floor, kicking it, trying to stop the spool of pictures from playing again. It had all been a lie. The past two years, and he could not stand to watch it, or think about it for another second. He was still drinking as the boat was taken back to shore, where they were met by the police.

_I Hate You. Don't Leave Me._

He was sober, for the first time since the wedding. When Emily had been found, he had been informed, and was taken to the hospital. The family were not allowed anywhere but the relatives room while she was in surgery, and when Charlotte arrived, she had taken one look at Daniel and slapped him, cursing at him for drinking and getting into such a state, while his wife was lost at sea. Conrad had bribed a nurse to put him on a drip while they waited for Emily to come out of surgery, and they were given the ok to see her. It had taken five hours, after a complication, which resulted in Emily almost bleeding out, and extra time needed to assess the head wound.

Finally, almost 7 hours after being found, Emily was in a private room, and Daniel was stood outside the room, looking in. Victoria had pulled him aside, telling him he at least had to act like an adoring, and worried husband in front of the hospital staff, and the press that had taken up residence outside the front doors of Suffolk County Memorial Hospital.

The doctor who had taken on Emily's case joined the family outside her room, where they were all stood in various states of conversation. To any onlooker, they looked like a normal family, standing vigil by the bed of a loved one, but to anyone in the know, it was clear they were anything but. She put her hand on Daniel's shoulder, to draw his attention to her, and quickly the conversation stopped, and the whole family, Patrick included, turned to see what the doctor had to say.

"Emily's a very lucky woman. She suffered massive blood loss from the gunshots to the abdomen, and she sustained a cranial injury from the impact of the water."

Daniel cringed slightly as he heard Charlotte gasp, but went back to looking stoic, it was the best the 'devoted husband' could do, considering the boiling hatred he felt building up inside whenever he thought of her, or someone said her name.

The doctor continued to talk, and Daniel looked down at his shoes, unwilling to show any emotion, lest the doctor see the wrong one.

"There's been some bleeding on the parietal lobe, which we will monitor, but she'll pull through."

The doctor moved her hand, from gesturing to the location of the parietal lobe, to Daniel's arm, shooting him a look of what could only be described as sympathy. Charlotte stepped forward, brushing past her brothers left arm as she moved to stand next to him, in case he needed someone to lean on.

"What about the baby?"

The doctor shot her a look, and turned to look at Victoria, Patrick, Conrad, then back at Charlotte, as if she was dismissing them. "I think it would be best if I talk to Mr Grayson alone." Conrad took his daughter's arm, and along with Victoria and Patrick, they made their way back to the relatives' room. Charlotte was close to tears, and Conrad wrapped his arms around her, trying to bring her what little comfort he could. Victoria remained in the doorway, trying to watch what the doctor was saying to her youngest son at that moment.

"Daniel, I'm afraid I have troubling news. Due to extensive bleeding that your wife suffered, both due to the gunshot wounds and the complications during surgery, I'm sorry to tell you that your wife suffered a miscarriage. It seems the gunshots ruptured the amniotic sac and separated it from the lining of the placenta. From the development of the foetus, we can determine that Emily was around 8 weeks pregnant."

Daniel's jaw dropped, and he instantly felt sick to his stomach. He held a hand to his mouth, as if trying to stop himself from being sick. The doctor misconstrued this as dismay and placed her hand on his arm again, knowing it was of little comfort. "I'm so sorry Mr Grayson."

Desperate for some air, he took one last look at his wife, this time feeling shame instead of anger, and ran from the room. Nolan sidestepped as he ran past him, having been just arrived at the hospital. Victoria watched with the hint of a smug smile as Daniel ran, assuming the doctor had told him about the fake pregnancy, which soon turned to a grimace as she spotted Nolan. Charlotte pushed past him, following Daniel so she could find out what the doctor had said. She was, unknowingly, the only Grayson truly worried about her sister in law.

_I Hate You. Don't Leave Me._

For the next three days, Daniel stood vigil outside the hospital room. He could not go in. He still felt betrayed by her, though it was his mother who had put the thoughts into his head. He was also too ashamed, too mortified, too repulsed with himself. He had done this. In some sick misconception that she had lied to him about the pregnancy, lied about him impending fatherhood he had shot his new bride. Twice. He had almost killed her. He had let his twisted mother screw with his head for weeks; he had allowed himself to be swayed by Sara. He was as bad as his parents. And that was why he wouldn't allow himself to sit next to her bed, to hold her hand like a normal dedicated husband and pray for her to wake up.

Victoria had been banned. Daniel made sure she was not allowed on the ward, and Conrad went one better, once he knew the whole story, making sure security knew she was not allowed on that whole floor of the hospital.

Charlotte and a lot of the staff had noticed he was not stepping foot inside his wife's room, even with much prompting from her. He could not risk her waking up and blaming him for what had happened, even though it was his fault. He needed a plan first, a way to lay the blame on someone else.

It took Charlotte physically pushing him into the room, and shutting the door for Daniel to be near her. It was the first time since he shot her, and when he gently ran his fingers over her cheek, it was the first time he had touched her since the wedding. He noticed a rise in pulse when he touched her and stepped back, panicked. He was watching the monitor closely, taking a deep breath as it slowed, before rising quickly again. A gasp came from the bed and a small, cold hand grabbed at his wrist.

He looked down at her as she opened her eyes, captivated as they pierced into his. She took a few breaths and looked around her brow furrowing in her disoriented state.

"Where..." She seemed to struggle catching her breath and Daniel was tempted to go and get a nurse, just so he could escape the room. "...Where am I?"

He was confused now. His frowned, trying to release her grip, but she would not let go.

"You're in the hospital." He stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, which looking at all the machines and tubes going into her, it certainly seemed to be.

"Why? What happened?" Oh, that was what she was confused about. But wait, why was she confused? She winced in pain and took a deep breath, the look on her face causing the nauseated feeling to return to his stomach. Her eyes filled with fear as she looked down at her abdomen, seeing it heavily bandaged. She had a tear building in the corner of her eye.

Daniel took a breath. What was this? Was she pretending she didn't know he shot her? Was this her payback? "You don't know?" He watched her as she continued to look around, her breathing increasing; the monitor showing her blood pressure was alarmingly high. "What do you remember?"

With one word, Daniel felt like a weight had been lifted. "Nothing." She didn't remember him shooting her. Good. But it was only for a second. The wild look in her eyes worried him. It was pure fear. No, this wasn't fear. She was terrified. He tried to hold her gaze as she tightened her grip on his wrist. "I don't remember... anything..."

Daniel stepped back, forcibly removing his wrist from her grip. The emotions were stirring inside him; he didn't know whether to be concerned or angry. What was going on?

She placed her hand on her stomach, gasping in pain. She took a few shallow breaths and when she spoke again, her voice was a whisper. "Please tell me... Who am I?"

_I Hate You. Don't Leave Me._

Over the next couple of days, Daniel continued his vigil out in the hallway. She had been diagnosed with transient global amnesia, for which there was no treatment. They just had to allow time, for her memories to return. Charlotte had been sat in with her, talking about anything and everything she knew about Emily's life. She even had pictures, or little tokens she had brought from Emily's house to try and find something that would trigger her memories.

Victoria was still banned from the hospital and the police had no new leads. They could not find the gun, and the deck cameras had been switched off, for a reason that was yet unknown, though the police suspected the shooter had turned them off beforehand, making it a premeditated event.

The doctor stood next to Daniel, outside, watching Emily through the glass. An earlier episode when Emily remembered a few simple memories of her childhood caused her blood pressure to raise so high, her wound reopened and she bled. A lot.

"Mr Grayson, we do not know how long it will take for your wife to regain all her memories, but she was asking my nurses a lot of questions, we think it might be easier, and allow her to heal faster, if you were able to be with her, and give her the answers she needs." Daniel merely nodded, watching Charlotte, who still had Emily's hand in hers as they both slept.

He called for Conrad, who went into the room, and emerged carrying the sleeping teenager back to the relative's room. Daniel entered and was struck by her beauty as she slept. He had seen it before, hundreds of times, the serene smile she only ever got when she was sleeping, dreaming about her dad, she told him most times, when he asked. Some of the tubes, wires and machines had been removed, and she looked more like a vulnerable woman, instead of a corpse hooked up to so much equipment. He sat and grasped the same hand Charlotte was just holding, kissing her palm.

He had no idea what he would say to her if she woke. Every time she opened her eyes, and he saw the terror in them, the terror he had caused, though she didn't know it yet, his resolve crumbled just a little bit. He no longer felt any reason to be angry with her. She hadn't lied to him, only to his mother, and only because she had been taunting her on that boat. He was furious with himself. All he could think about was that he had almost killed his wife. And he had killed his child.

He felt her hand squeeze his, and for the first time since the shooting, he could not see fear in her eyes. Instead, it looked a little like love. This time, the sick feeling returning was because of the trust that she had in her eyes. She had not looked at him like that since the night she had shown him the picture of her parents. Daniel sighed, squeezing her hand back.

"Did you remember something?" He could not think of a more subtle way to ask, but she nodded anyway. She took a rather shallow breath, her face contorting in pain before she released her breath and opened her mouth to speak.

"Where we love is Home. Home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts." She smiled, and it was breath taking. She had remembered the poem, their poem. And as she was not yet throwing things or cursing him, he figured that was all she had remembered.

He smiled in return, unable to stop himself placing a kiss on her open palm. "Oliver Wendell Holmes" He confirmed. The more he looked at her, the more he realised how in love with her he was. How he was the one who had ruined their relationship. He had believed his mother and strayed with Sara and he was slowly beginning to realise just what he had done. They would never come back from this, and she would hate him, forever, as soon as her memories returned. He had spent another sleepless night, replaying many of their past conversations as Emily expressed her wish to have children, and be part of a family, something she hadn't truly been since her parents had died.

His breath caught in his throat, as he panicked. His throat tightened and he stood, releasing her hand.

"Daniel... are you ok? What's wrong?" He loosened his tie as he headed towards the door.

"I... I just need some air..." With that he left, leaving a rather confused looking Jack and a scared Emily in his wake.

Jack walked into Emily's room, standing by the door as to not alarm Emily any more than she already seemed to be. He had been called by Charlotte, who figured Jack might make a personal connection with her, and help her get her memories back. She looked him up and down, biting her lip.

"I... I think I recognise you... Jack isn't it? Charlotte told me about you. Showed me pictures... you and Carl, right?" Jack nodded, and moved closer to her, debating whether to sit on the chair next to the bed or remain standing. Emily gestured for him to sit, and he did, brushing the hair away from her forehead. She hummed, almost comforted, but he mistook it for her being uncomfortable and pulled his hand back.

"We've known each other for a very long time. Sort of." He laughed a little, and hearing him laugh made Emily smile.

"What happened?"

"I literally have no idea how to answer that question." This time Emily frowned, trying to sit up a little more. Jack took her hand and helped her, rearranging the cushions behind her back.

"I hate this. I feel so helpless." He dropped her hand, but took hold of the railing on the bed, leaning over her slightly.

"If it helps, you are the strongest person I know."

"People keep saying things like that to me, but I don't feel it." She raised her hand, the one with the drip, and wiped away the tears that had collected in her eyes.

"Trust me." The look on Jacks face was so genuine. So caring. And it was different from any she had seen on Daniel the whole time. For some reason, she knew she could trust him. "You are the toughest, most annoyingly bull-headed person on the planet." She frowned but he continued before she could say anything. "Emily, I'll admit there have been times I never wanted to see you again. But..." He trailed off, staring at the floor. "You saved my life. You held my wife as she died, so I know she died happy. She loved you so much, and you loved her. I know you don't remember this Emily but... We had a big fight about it. And it was my fault. Taking all my pain and anger and putting it on to you. And I'm so sorry. That's what I wanted to say on the beach." He stood up a little straighter and relaxed, having managed to say his whole speech without making her cry.

Emily took a deep breath, looking down at her wounds. She looked at the drip in her hand, and the wires attached to electrodes on her chest. She looked up at Jack and she frowned. He had finished his dialogue, and had kissed her forehead. "Come back to us Emily Thorne..." Turning around, he made his way back to the door.

Emily gasped, making him turn back to face her. "I remember..." He was back by her side in an instant, and she was clutching at her head, as if she was trying to stop the memories as they burned across her eyes, every single one as painful as the moment she had lived them.

"Daniel shot me."

_I Hate You. Don't Leave Me._

After being discharged, Emily and Daniel had moved back into Emily's house. He had been told that she had regained most of her memories, except the ones around the shooting, especially the shooter. Daniel believed that to be unlikely, and that he was just waiting for her to start blaming him. His guilt was making him paranoid.

She was still on strict bed rest, had a private nurse, and Daniel, who although he still felt too guilty being around her, couldn't stand being apart from her. Partly because he didn't want to risk anyone else being around when, if it happened, she finally regained her full memories, and partly because, now that Sara had moved to England, and his mother was not allowed near him, his wife or their house, he was starting to realise just how much he loved her. His anger at her had evaporated almost instantly when he learned about the miscarriage, and he was planning to turn himself in as soon as she was fully healed and able to look after herself.

He knew she remembered their whole relationship, their first break-up, the second engagement, the whole thing with his family, the night he had spent with Sara, and the wedding, up until they boarded the boat. Allegedly. The doctor said she had psychologically blocked off any memories after that to protect herself as she healed.

Emily had mainly remained quiet about the events of her shooting, now she had most of her memories back, she wasn't asking him any more questions and for that he was grateful. It seemed that she had not regained her memory about the pregnancy, and Daniel was glad. He hoped she would not remember until he had handed himself in, as he would probably be safer behind bars than he would facing Emily's wrath.

He had taken to sleeping on the bed with her, after she had repeatedly asked. He didn't want her to feel like he didn't love her, and so stayed with her most of the time, unless to make food or work from the office across the hall. He was beginning to relax around her, thinking she had suppressed the memory of the shooting so much she would never remember it.

Five days after she returned from the hospital, a two weeks after the wedding, the shooting, and the death of their child, did Emily finally ask. He had just taken their dishes from dinner downstairs, and had joined her back in the bedroom. He had removed his shirt and was sitting atop the duvet when she turned to him, as much as she could without bending at the waist. She was still in a lot of pain, though she tried not to show it.

"Daniel..." He looked up at her, seeing nothing but confusion in her eyes. He raised his hand to her face and smiled lightly, stroking her cheek. He looked at her questioningly and she continued. "Daniel... I'm guessing I know the answer to my question, as you have not once mentioned it since the wedding but... did I lose the baby?"

He dropped his hand from her cheek as if it had suddenly become red hot. He instantly felt nauseous and looked to the duvet, staring at his hands that were now clasped in his lap. She didn't need him to say the words, she knew by the look on his face. The doctor had not mentioned it to her, and she figured she would have been discharged with more than just strong painkillers and antibiotics if she was still pregnant.

She looked at Daniel though, rather pointedly, as if waiting for an explanation. She knew that he now knew she wasn't lying about the pregnancy. She also knew, though he probably thought she didn't, that he was the one to shoot her, to cause the miscarriage.

When he didn't look at her, she pushed him, shoved him as hard as she could in her weakened state. She was strong enough to make him tumble and almost fall off the bed. She pressed the dressings to her wound, it was painful, but not as bad as it would have been, had she struggled to move without doing so. She attempted to stand, and succeeded in swinging both her legs out of the bed before Daniel grabbed her. The look on his face could only be described as dread. He knew. He knew she knew.

"You're right. I know. I know it was you who shot me."

Daniel kept hold of her, his face a mixture of emotions. Emily looked stoic, too calm, and Daniel knew the storm would hit any minute. He was right. He just sat there as she threw cushions at him, anything she could land her hands on within reaching distance, but nothing that could scar him. She wasn't an animal after all, and she did love him.

She continued to throw things and hit him, her fists pummeling his chest and he just sat and took it.

"I hate you!"

He nodded as she continued her verbal and physical assault. "You did this! You killed our baby! And you nearly killed me..." He held his hands against his sides, knowing he deserved every hit, every bit of rage.

Her anger turned to frustration and grief and she cried, her fists sluggishly slowing their assault on him. Soon she was slumped against his chest, muttering how much she hated him, how she would never forgive him, as the tears fell down her cheeks. He wrapped his arms around her and rocked her like one would a child, and she allowed it. Surprisingly. She was still too weak, and vulnerable and was exhausted. When she stopped crying, he wiped her tear stained face with a tissue and lay her down on the bed, lifting her feet back up. When he stood, she was watching him, her face expressionless. He winced as he straightened up. He ached where Emily had been hitting him, and he like the pain. In fact, he welcomed it.

He figured she wanted him gone, so he pulled a bag off the top of the closet and opened his side of it, pulling out his business suits. He kept an eye on Emily who was still watching him, her face betraying no emotion. He continued to pack, until he got to the dresser beside the bed. On it was some of the pictures that had been on the slideshow on the boat, and in the top drawer was the sonogram picture. He walked round to the other side of the bed, placing it on the top of Emily's dresser.

She was still watching him, this time he could see sadness etched over her features. He could see the tears building in her eyes and she wiped them away furiously when she saw him looking. Back on his side of the bed, he picked up and packed the items from the dresser, trying to stop his own tears from falling.

With one last look at his probably soon-to-be-ex-wife he made for the door, slinging the bag over his shoulder.

"Don't leave me."

He stopped and turned to see if he had heard right. She was sat up slightly, fresh fat tears were slowly rolling down her cheeks. "Please. I feel like I can't breathe... Just hold me..."

Daniel dropped the bag on the ground, moving back to his wife's side. He sat on the chair next to the bed, the one she always sat on when she was changing to go running, and took her hand. She shook her head, almost like she was trying to clear her thoughts and pulled her hand back roughly. "Don't touch me!" He frowned, reaching back for her hand. For some insane reason, she wanted him to stay, if only for the night. He was not going to pass the opportunity up, it may well be the last time.

_I Hate You. Don't Leave Me._

He sat in that same position, holding her hand, watching her sleep all night. His back was sore, his neck stiff, and he was so tired, but he stayed. Emily had watched him watch her for the better part of an hour before she fell asleep, and every time he tried to let go of her hand, she squeezed it tighter. He did not understand what was going on. She hated him, but didn't want him to leave. She was angry, but would not let go of his hand.

By 6am, he was exhausted, and Emily was waking. His hand was cramping, and the way she winced when she woke, stretching out, she was feeling it too. He took a deep breath and looked up, and saw she was looking at him with a pensive expression. "Can I have a cup of tea?"

He nodded, standing up. She was looking pale, probably from all the crying last night, and right now he would do anything just so she wouldn't cry like that again. In a few minutes he was back with a cup of tea and a toasted English muffin. He sat with her as she drank her tea, holding his feet in her lap. He had noticed that since the shooting, her hands and feet always seemed to be cold. He began to massage her feet, almost absentmindedly as she ate her breakfast. She leaned her head back against the cushions, and closed her eyes, for the first time in weeks she looked relaxed.

When she had finished eating, and he had warmed her feet up, by helping her put some fluffy bed socks on, he sat back against the bed, still holding them on his lap. She sighed, picking up the sonogram picture from her dresser.

"Where do we go from here? I mean... you shot me Daniel... you took your mothers word over mine and you almost killed me." He looked up at her, the pain in her eyes was mirrored in his.

"I know that. I know I have blown any chance of us ever getting back to the way we were. I was stupid. No, beyond stupid. It was the worst moment of my life. It was the most senseless thing I have ever done, and I am so sorry. I am going to the police as soon as you are able to look after yourself." He paused, as Emily frowned. "I didn't mean it like that, I know you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself but I would never forgive myself if something happened to you, because of my idiotic mistake." Her scowl softened a little, and he tucked her feet back under the duvet. "I love you Emily. I have since the day I met you. I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, but I..."

She shook her head and he stopped talking. "I don't want to hear anymore Daniel. You killed my baby." He choked back a sob but aside from that, remained quiet. "You are not going to hand yourself in Daniel. You are going to stay here, as my husband and suffer as much as I do, every time you look at this picture." She held up the sonogram to prove her point.

Daniel frowned, looking down at his crossed legs. Did she think he was still with Sara? She needed to know he was 100% committed to her. "Emily... that thing with Sara is over, I swear. I haven't seen her since before the wedding, and I don't want to. I love you. She was a mistake." He sighed at her pointed look. "I know, I've made a lot of mistakes... but for us to even be friends, I need you to forgive me..."

She scoffed at him, kicking him under the duvet. "Why would you even think I would want to be friends with you, let alone anything else? You have ruined my life, I fucking hate you, you are such a selfish asshole!" She kicked him again and this time, he fell off the bed. He stood up, unsure of what to do or say.

"I'm so sorry Emily... If I could take it back, there would be no question... I just... I love you. And I want you to love me. I want you to be able to love me like you used to. I need you to trust me... I will never hurt you again I promise..."

_I Hate You. Don't Leave Me._

She remained looking down at the sonogram, her finger stroking the spot where the baby was. When she spoke, he could hear the pain in her voice. "You can't promise me something like that Daniel. You are your parent's son. It's what you Grayson's do. You hurt people, you_ kill_ people." At that, her voice broke, and she was crying for the third time in as many days.

He moved again, opening the curtains to let some light in. It was summer in the Hamptons, and at 7am, the sun was streaming through the window. He remained by the window, looking out. "Tell me what you want Emily... What do you want me to do? If you want me to leave, I'll go. If you want me to stay, I'll make sure you're never alone. I just want you to be happy, Ems, I would give you the world if it means you would be my girl again."

As he was talking, Emily had carefully manoeuvred herself out of bed, and was stood next to him at the window. She grabbed his shoulder before she fell, and he pulled her into his arms to keep her upright. "I don't know any more Daniel. Once I loved you so much. Now I don't know whether I want you to stay with me, or set me free... I don't know if I can ever forgive you for what you have done. If I was healthy, and we were a normal couple then I'd be out of here like a shot, no man should get a second chance after shooting his wife... but we are not a normal couple. And being with you, it was the first time I felt like I was part of a real family, since my parents..."

_I Hate You. Don't Leave Me._

The way she was looking at him made him want to bend down and kiss her, but he knew she would probably break his face. He still kept an arm around her though, she was looking slightly green, and was unsteady on her feet. He raised his other hand and pressed it gently against her forehead. She had a temperature. Daniel took a breath and bent down, sweeping her off her feet. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as he carried her down the stairs slowly. He walked outside and took a seat on the porch swing, holding her on his lap. She leant her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes.

Emily gripped his shirt in her hands, and released, continuing to do that for a few minutes. Daniel just watched her, knowing she was thinking through some things. She released his shirt for the final time, moving off his lap to sit beside him. "Here's the thing Daniel... you deserve to go to prison for what you did... I don't know how safe you are to be around, now I know what you can do... but I can't back down. We were a family, for five hours. Even then you were distant. And dangerous because of your drinking. But did you shooting me, stop me loving you? No. I can't deny how I still feel about you. So I've worked it out. That I'm staying now, in this relationship, in this house, with you, my husband." She began running her fingers along the double infinity tattoo on her wrist, like it was a distraction from her thoughts.

"You see..." Daniel shook his head, looking out over the ocean. There must be something going on in her head. Her mood swings were giving him whiplash, and he was struggling to keep up with her. "I am confused. I can't decide whether to be scared of you or trust you..." She bit her lip, glancing out in the direction he was looking, frowning as she looked over at Grayson Manor. "Because the truth is, I am terrified of you." The pain in Daniel's expression was evident when he looked back at her, and she met his gaze. "But as hard as I try, I cannot imagine my life without you in it..."

_I Hate You. Don't Leave Me._

For a while after that no one spoke, they sat until her stomach rumbled, and he carried her back inside, tucking her up on the sofa before making her some lunch. Charlotte had brought round some chicken noodle soup the day before and he heated some up, running through their mornings conversations in his head. Was she staying, or going? Did she forgive him, or hate him, or both?

He turned on the TV as she ate, flicking through the channels. On the news, was a little section about the ongoing police investigation into Emily's shooting, and he quickly switched the channel. He settled on some new show Charlotte always had on, and turned back to Emily. His phone rang before he could say anything else and he went outside to take the call. When he returned, Emily was not downstairs. He made his way upstairs and found her crouched back against the bedroom wall, holding the sonogram. Daniel sighed, getting angry with himself about the whole situation.

"Em, what...? You are still recovering... from gunshot wounds and a miscarriage no less!" The tension was getting to him, and he had no idea how much longer he could stay. The relationship between them was clearly toxic and broken. The look Emily gave him was one of repulsion and it made his heart ache.

"Do you think I don't know that?! I am just thinking about what you caused me to lose. Caused us to lose! We could have been a family! Have you not listened to a single word I've said?" She moved to get up, and when Daniel went to help her, she pushed him away, using the bag he had packed as leverage. Daniel looked from her to the bag, and back again. Emily glared at him. "Go on then, run away. Because I can't take this pain anymore!" She yelled, grabbing his bag from the floor as she did, pushing him out of the door with it, slamming and locking it behind him. "Go on, get out. I hate you! Just leave!"

_I Hate You, Don't Leave Me._

Emily remained in her room for the rest of the day, and when she went downstairs, slowly, she found it empty too. Good, Daniel had left, just like she wanted. So why did her heart hurt when she couldn't find his bag? Had he left her for good?

_I Hate You, Don't Leave Me._

Every day for the next two weeks, Emily waited. She waited for Daniel to return. She waited for news that Daniel had been arrested, that he had turned himself in. But the news didn't come. Instead Charlotte stopped by every day. She bought her food, and helped her around the house until she could move around with ease. Emily tried not to ask, but Charlotte always said the same. He was in the city, in the office, working. He never came home, he never called, he only ever emailed, and never to her. Emily asked when he was going to be back, and Charlotte gave her the same answer every time. 'I don't know'. Jack stopped by with Carl a couple of times, and though it cheered her up, she was not happy.

When he finally did return, it was midnight. After two weeks of constant calls from Charlotte, he decided to go back one last time, to end it properly. He let himself into the house, and stood in the doorway to her bedroom. He no longer thought of it as theirs. She was awake, the bedside lamp on. She was looking through photos, but it was not the sonogram, like he guessed it would be, it was the album she had made him for his 24th birthday, the book of poems, and pictures of their relationship. The sonogram, however, was framed, on her dresser and there was an identical version on Daniel's side.

She felt his presence but didn't look up at him. After two weeks, she knew what she had to do. She had tried, and she could not live without him in her life. It sounded dramatic, but she had got so used to him being there, both before the shooting and after, she couldn't function properly when he wasn't.

"Hey."

"Hey..." He moved closer to the bed, sitting down at the foot, where her feet were. She was wearing the fluffy socks again, and he smiled." I just came back to get the rest of my stuff. Don't worry, I'm leaving. And if you don't want me to, I won't go to the police. I just want you to be happy." With that, he made to stand, but before he could, she grabbed hold of his wrist. Her hands were cold. Still.

"I love when you kiss me. When I'm in pieces, you complete me. No I can't back down, no I can't deny, I need you to stay now." She looked up at him, frowning. "That's all I have so far, and I know it's not good... you're the poet, not me" He saw the hint of a smile on her lips, and he smiled in return.

"What are you saying Emily? Do you forgive me? Do you hate me? Do you still want me to leave?"

She shook her head, and tapped the bed next to her. One look in her eyes and he knew she was serious, he made his way around the bed and sat down on his side, pulling her into his arms. "I must admit, I'm still confused and scared. I'm still... heartbroken... but I also know that I am terrified of losing you."

I Hate You. Don't Leave Me.

Hearing those words caused Daniel to release the breath he didn't know he was holding. This was far from over. He knew that, but they had turned a corner. He picked the picture of the sonogram off his dresser and turned to his wife.

"We need to talk about this Em. I can spend the rest of my life apologising, but it will not change the fact that on our wedding night, I shot you. I didn't want to kill you. I thought you were lying about the pregnancy. I just wanted you to hurt, as much as you hurt me... and in that, I was responsible for the loss of our baby. And there will never be enough words to express how much I regret that moment.

_I Hate You. Don't Leave Me.__  
><em>

Emily tilted her head back, smiling sadly at her husband, the man she hadn't seen for two weeks. The man who four weeks ago, shot her. And in that moment, she felt nothing but love for him.

"Like Charlotte so eloquently said when she was here... I'm addicted to the madness. I'm a daughter of sadness." She laughed miserably. "I've been here too many times before Daniel. I know loss. My parents, Amanda, My old life..." She curled up so she was still leaning against him, and linked her fingers with his. "When you left, I thought I'd been abandoned again... I know, by my own admission, but still... I'm scared now. Our relationship... our marriage is still rocky. This won't just go away. But I can't handle another fall out. We couldn't take it... We're fragile."

_I Hate You. Don't Leave Me._

They spent the rest of the night talking, sharing memories. They both cried when Emily told him about the day she found out she was pregnant. They talked about how Victoria had gone to Miami to spend some time with Patrick. How Conrad had moved Lydia in and they were happy. Charlotte was living at the bar with Jack and Carl. Everyone was moving on with their lives.

The next morning, Emily woke late. She normally didn't sleep past 7, but with their late night, and all the stress and emotions of the past month, she was still asleep, her hair fanned out on the pillow, at 9am. Daniel was downstairs, cooking breakfast, scribbling rough notes on a piece of paper. He had not slept, and after Emily fell asleep around four, he watched her sleep for a while, before taking his poem book downstairs. He was thinking about everything that had happened over the past month, all the conversations he had had, with his wife, his sister, his father.

He smiled happily as he finished writing the poem he had been penning for about three hours. It wasn't great, but he hadn't tried writing poetry properly for over five years. He felt Emily wrap her arms around his waist from behind, leaning her head against his shoulder. He turned, wrapping his arms tightly around her. He looked down at her, trying to gauge her reaction as he leant forward. She tilted her head back slightly, smirking at him, and he pressed his lips down to hers, kissing his wife properly, for the first time in over a month.

They jumped apart when a burning smell invaded their nostrils. Daniel groaned, causing Emily to laugh, the most wonderful sound in the world he thought, as he pulled the burned croissants out of the oven. Emily grabbed the poem book from next to him, reading the poem that filled the last page.

They forget me, don't see me  
><span>When they love me, they leave me<span>  
><span>I admit I'm in and out of my head<span>  
><span>Don't listen to a single word I've said<span>  
><span>Just hear me out before you run away<span>  
><span>Cause I can't take this pain<span>  
><span>No, I can't take this pain<span>  
><span>I hate you, don't leave me<span>  
><span>I hate you, please love me<span>

She frowned at the poem. She could feel the passion and the angst coming off the page. She put the book down on the counter and took his hands, pulling him back to face her.

"I love you. Please don't leave me" was the last thing she said before she kissed him again.

_I hate you, don't leave me  
><em>_I hate you, please love me._

_I Love You. Don't Leave Me._

* * *

><p><strong>So this is the end. I know it gets worse the further it goes on, but I stayed up till after 3 am to get this finished. I need to be up in three hours for the last day of my first ever semester of university. There are probably some spelling and grammatical errors but oh well. I'll edit when I have the time. I started writing this after watching the mentioned episodes again, and I was so enjoying writing it, that I finished it in two days. That's quicker than I've ever written anything of this length.<strong>

**I have had to remove the lyrics, which kind of defeats the object of the story but oh well. You will get the story much more if you listened to the song while reading. Play special attention to the lyrics.**

**Thanks for reading, **

**PLEASE R&R**

**ClaireJKP – InfinityxInfinity95**


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